


A Drug for Angels

by DoreyG



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Eating, Hugh Dancy's eyeteeth, Implied Cannibalism, M/M, Mentions of hunting, Messy eating, Nobody is entirely sane, Non-graphic implications of violence, hannibalkink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:57:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the sheer visceral nature of it, that’s what appeals to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Drug for Angels

It’s the sheer visceral nature of it, that’s what appeals to him.

Will has never been the most controlled of beings, that’s what makes him interesting instead of simply another grey spot in a world of dismal grey, but even with that this is unexpected. He tears into the meat like he’s some predator, a wolf that has walked miles and hours and cold stretches of nothing only to fall ravenously upon the first barely held together lump of meat found. 

The meat is cooked, unfortunately, but he can still imagine the spray of blood. The smell. The agonized cry of the prey as the hunter brings it down.

Will holds the meat in both hands, also like a hunter (a low down _beast_ ) instead of the ball of nerves he usually is. He grips it in his fists and rips hunks off with his teeth instead of waiting for anything so cultured as a knife. His cheeks and chin are already starting to get stained, not from the blood but from the sauce. The red sauce, he blesses silently as he leans back in his chair to get a better view – yet again his imagination can take over and provide the rest.

He knew that Will was hungry, but he’d never expected this. He’d invited the man over for a bite to eat, a small bowing to the wishes of the others so stark in their painted grey. He knew that Will hadn’t been eating, hadn’t been sleeping, had barely even been breathing with the world pressing so hard and fast and _sharp_ against his every thought. He had thought to coax, to tempt, to eventually fill the man up with a few little morsels and send him on his way. Trembling like a domino for the next inevitable fall.

The surprise adds to the other joys, fills in the small spot left barren from the nature and the imagination and creates that little extra sparkle that has never failed to thrill.

…Isn’t failing to thrill.

For no other creature has fascinated him as much as William Graham (5’11, almost in his forties, never able to sleep if too hot), as the man takes another huge and slobbering gulp and looks up – eyes finally registering something near guilt, cheeks heating to a soft red as he slowly lowers his prize from his mouth, “I’m… Sorry. I’m making a mess. I can go get something to clean it up, if you-?”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts, and smiles ever so slowly. He can see Will’s eyeteeth, tiny and sharp. Almost like fangs, almost like the beast he truly is under all the layers and all the pointless fuss, “I’m just glad to see you eat. Do whatever you want, I’ll handle it later.”

His smile only grows bigger as Will frowns briefly, and then nods, and then returns to his carcass ripped so brutally from the world.

It’s the sheer visceral nature of it, that’s what he wants.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Florence and the Machine's "Strangeness and Charm". Because damn if that isn't the perfect song for this.


End file.
